Oh, The Irony

Dear Friends,


I have not really written in so long.


I have been full on living my life for the last 5 months—so much so that I have not found the time to stop and write about it.  Part of it has been that I haven’t felt very positive at all about the state of affairs in America.  Combined with that I have been so much enjoying my life in Belize that it seemed like all I could write about is either how completely disgusted with the Obama administration I am or how much I am enjoying living simply in a beautiful place that nourishes me on so many levels.


Neither one felt really relevant, so I have just kept quiet—except on my Facebook pages where I post little bits frequently, but don’t have to write longer pieces, and I don’t feel the same need to edit myself as I do with a blog.


Now, I found myself on a plane, heading back to the US after a 5-month hiatus, and I am finding myself having a hard time preparing for it.  My energetic body has become so attuned to living in a place where the main forms of transportation are bicycles, golf carts, and boats; my daily commute to town for fresh veggies and visiting my partner of nearly a year is a 3 mile bicycle ride down a sandy path bordering the sea; and my daily activities including things like working in my experimental garden (experimental because I have never tried to grow things in the tropics), doing yoga on the dock over the sea, kayaking and swimming, and making fresh hand made tamales and tortillas.  I have been in a pretty near heaven on Earth experience for me.


And now, I have to prepare for planes, traffic, city chaos, events, being with hundreds of people at a time vs. the 10 at most at a time I have been with, and planning, scheduling, and keeping a hundred things on track at once.  It is a shock to my system, and I find myself wanting to run and hide.  I am remembering what it was like coming down from Luna for the first time after over two years of not touching the ground.  BIG shock!


I take a break from writing to ask for water in my own cup, they refuse for sanitary reasons.  I say never mind thank you.  I don’t use disposables.  I know I am on a plane and I am trashing the planet by being on the plane, but I am doing my very best to mitigate the harm I cause.  I have never been able to come to peace with being on planes and travelling to try to get people to wake up and be more caring of the Earth and each other.  And I am laughing at myself internally right now although I am crying as I write this because I am back in the land of the absurd and can’t get water in my own cup because of sanitary reasons.  The tears are streaming down my face, and I can’t make them stop.  I want to go home to Belize.  I don’t want to be here.  I don’t want this life of travelling to be my life anymore.  I feel like I am 5 years old and scared and overwhelmed and upset and there is no one that can make it better.  I know this is ridiculous, but I can’t seem to make it stop.  So, I sit here on a plane seat, tears streaming down my face, nose running, and typing away on my computer.


I know I will get through this.  I know in the grand scheme of things, this matters not one iota.  I know that I will do my tour and give it everything I have.  I know I am not my thoughts.  I know all of this.  And still I am crying.


I think I will take a break and come back to writing when I can be a bit more grown up about it all.


Ok I am back.  Still hurting a little, but at least I can see now without all the tears blocking my view.   The irony of life is very rarely lost on me.  Sitting, writing about how very much I don’t want to be dealing with what I know is coming and in the midst of writing it, I experience the very same thing I am dreading.  I go back and forth between laughing and crying.  The people around me are not quite sure what to do with me.  The rules of polite and “normal” society don’t have places for people like me.  I am one step away form being the “crazy” person talking to myself.  Only difference is I am writing to myself—you will just happen to read my internal conversation with myself.  Not much different than the “crazy” people we see.  See, we are all crazy.  All of us pursuing “progress”, fitting in, standing out, doing what we believe in, or doing what we have been tricked or taught to believe in, preaching our messages from different pulpits some in a church, the other, blogs, endless blogs on computer screens around the world. 


Which leads me all the way back around to the beginning of this entry.  I think part of the reason why I go for long periods of time without writing is because I get so tired of all the chatter—mine included.  There are moments when I am out swimming at sea and the main sound is that of the waves rolling over the reef.  Moments when I am in my home mixing the fresh masa with chaya, potatoes, beans, onion, garlic, and carrots to make tamales, and listening to the birds singing outside as they sway from the palm branches and bouganvilla.  These are the moments that make my soul sing.


And I have to think in moments like that, what good is all our chatter?  Really.  How much good does it do?  How much better would our world be, how much better would we all be, if we all just shut up for a while?    If we turned off our tv’s and computers and phones and just listened to the birds and waves and breeze blowing through the trees?  And maybe, just like this crazy moment on the plane… maybe just maybe, we all need to stop and have a really good cry.  The kind that shakes the very foundation of our perceived reality.  The kind where we grieve how far we have gone down the wrong road, the wrong path, the wrong plane ride. 


I think most of us are so desensitized from the onslaught that we don’t feel what we have done.  We don’t feel what we have done to this beautiful, sacred, hurting place we call “planet Earth.”  What we have done to the beautiful, sacred, hurting beings we call “animals.”  What we have done to the beautiful, sacred, hurting beings we call “humans.”   What we ultimately have done to the beautiful, sacred, hurting being that is our self.  Or we do feel it deeply and act out our pain on the world as we try to “save” it.


So now that you are done reading my latest chatter, do yourself and the world a gift, turn off whatever device on which you are reading this, find a quiet, peaceful place (even if the only place is curled up in a corner of a closet) and go sit and be very quiet and let yourself feel deeply.  Let the tears flow, let the laughter flow, whatever comes through, but REALLY feel it.  And be with whatever comes through until all that remains is the sweet, peaceful silence.  Steep in that gift for a good, long while.  Breathe into it and FEEL that place deeply. 


As soon as I can, I am going to do the exact same thing.






Published in: on March 30, 2012 at 10:32 pm  Comments (55)